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Updated: May 6, 2025
The paragraph which has the post of honour is headed "Oficial," and has in it a flavour of the Court Newsman. "S. M. la Reina y sus augustos hijos continúan tambien sin novedad en su importante salud." "Her Majesty the Queen and her august children also continue without alteration in their precious health."
Glenn Murell. He was fairly tall, with light gray hair, prematurely so, I thought, and a pleasant, noncommittal face. I'd have pegged him for a businessman. Well, I suppose authoring is a business, if that was his business. He shook hands with us, and said: "Aren't you rather young to be a newsman?" I started to burn on that.
Each of us envied the other, when we weren't thinking seriously about it. I imagined that sea-monster hunting was wonderfully thrilling and romantic, and Tom had the idea that being a newsman was real hot stuff. When we actually stopped to think about it, though, we realized that neither of us would trade jobs and take anything at all for boot.
But my voice was faint; the newsman did not hear me and he went flying past. "Paper third e'shen reported loss of the Sco-sha." After that I dared not ask for a paper. Literally I dared not. I dared not know the truth. I dared not see the dreadful fact in print. So I began to hurry home.
I whispered to Murell. "We just came along for the ride." "I don't want the money," he said. "These people need every cent they can get." So did I, for that matter, and I didn't have salary and expense account from a big company on Terra. However, I hadn't come along in the expectation of making anything out of it, and a newsman has to be careful about the outside money he picks up.
In any considerable town of the realm not a day passes but the public newsman relates in the most matter-of-fact and unsympathetic way to his circle of listless auditors painful instances of human beings, mostly women and children, bitten and mangled by these ferocious animals without provocation.
He was set apart from the idle crowd. He would tell the crowd nothing. In a minute he was going westwards on the left side of Coventry Street again. The other side was as populous with saunterers as ever. The violet glow-worms still burned in front of the theatres and cinemas. Motor-buses swept by; taxis swept by; parcels vans swept by, hooting. A newsman was selling papers at the corner.
Ken Holt would help, if we could get the picture to him." Ken Holt, the young newsman whose adventures were favorite reading for Rick and Scotty, had once asked Spindrift for help, and Rick had given him a set of pocket-size radio transceivers of the kind known as "The Megabuck Network." "Sandy Allen is a photographer," Scotty pointed out. "He might know these people."
Anybody would have thought a barbwire worm had crawled onto Joe Kivelson's chair seat under him. "Where'd you hear that?" he demanded, which is the Galaxy's silliest question to ask any newsman. "Tom, if you've been talking " "He hasn't," I said. "He didn't need to. It sticks out a parsec in all directions."
Then he is, to a certain extent, the oracle of the district through which he travels their genealogist, their newsman, their master of the revels, their doctor at a pinch, or their divine; I promise you he has too many duties, and is too zealous in performing them, to be easily bribed to abandon his calling.
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